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Geriatric Rebel

COMING SOON!!

Forced to stay in a nursing home while undergoing therapy, seventy-two year old, Mike Powell refuses to get out of bed, won't cooperate with the nurses, and won't take his medicine. At least not until he meets Elsa. Spunky little Elsa sparks new into him.
Seventy year old, Elsa, leftin the home while her son takes a family vacation, joins forces with Mike, setting the home on its heels and later discvores deception and fraud. Can they find happiness together?

EXCERPT:

Peeking around the corner into the dimly lit halls, Mike
watched the pretty silver-haired lady slip into a dark room. What was she up
to? He looked up and down the hall to make sure no one was around and followed
her. Next thing he knew, he ran smack into her.

“Whoa,” she whispered. “Who are you? What
are you doing here?”

“Maybe I should ask you that question,” Mike answered.
“This isn’t your room.” A tiny little thing, she barely came up to his
shoulders. She put her hands behind her back, and Mike chuckled. What was she
hiding? “I’m night security,” he lied. “What’s behind your back?”

She lowered her head and brought out a water pitcher.
“It was only a joke.”

Mike took her arm. “You better come with me.” He led
her to the hall after a quick check to make sure it was still empty. “So you’re
the one stealing the pitchers.”

She shivered and for a moment he felt sorry for her.
What a mean trick, but he couldn’t help himself. He pushed open the exit door.

“Where are we going?” Elsa stiffened and tried to pull
away. “Where are you taking me?”

Her timid tone
melted Mike. Time to confess. Damn, too late.

“Wait just a dog-gone minute.” She pulled away from
him. “How do I know who you are? Where’s your uniform?Show me some identification.” Although she
spoke in whispers, the tone of her voice showed Mike she wasn’t buying his act.

Surprised by her sudden change of attitude, he
stopped, raised his hands in surrender, and grinned at her.

“Who are you? Where do you think you’re taking me?”
She glared at him with the lightest, bluest eyes he’d ever seen. Eyes that
right now, he swore pierced into his.

“You’re a
burglar, aren’t you?” She tapped her foot and crossed her arms over her chest.
“If you think for one minute, I’m going out that door with you, think again,
buddy.”

Mike stifled a laugh, finding her amusing, obviously
she didn’t trust him. Not that he blamed her, he did lie to her, and she didn’t
know him from Adam. What did he expect?

“What were you doing in that room, buster, and if you
don’t tell me who you are, I’m going to scream for help.”

“Okay, okay, quiet down.”Hell, she meant business. “I was following
you.” He tried to sound serious, but he couldn’t. He found the whole situation
humorous. “My name is Mike Powell, room 110, but I don’t belong in this home.” He
held out his hand toward her.

“Yeah, none of us belong here,” she scoffed. “Why were
you following me?”

Since she ignored his outstretched hand, Mike lowered
it. “I was curious to see where you were going in the middle of the night.”

“Humph.” Elsa tapped her foot. “So why are you here?”

“I fell and there wasn’t anyone to take care of me. My
wife passed away three years ago, and I don’t have any children. So they threw
me in here for therapy.”

“I never see you in therapy.”

“That’s ’cause I don’t need it anymore.”

“Humph. So how come you’re still here?”

“Nothing to go home to. I have more fun here. They
don’t know I can get out of bed.”

“And just how did you pull that off?” Elsa seemed
surprised to hear he had fooled the nurses into thinking he couldn’t get out of
bed.

“Simple, I
refuse to get out of bed. Of course….” He combed his fingers through his
thinning white hair and laughed. “They don’t know about my night time
escapades.“Ah, I know who you are. You’re
that difficult man. I hear them talking about. You don’t eat, refuse to take
your medicine, or even get out of bed. They call you the ‘Geriatric Rebel’.”

Mike chuckled. He liked the sound of her voice,
musical, not raspy or whiney like the other women here. “So why are you here?”
he asked. “You don’t seem like the typical resident.”

“Humph, kids are on vacation and don’t want to bother
with me. I’m Elsa Logan, by the way.” Elsa turned away. “I better get back.
Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow.” She left him standing in the hall.

A quiver of something familiar went through him as she
disappeared down the hall and into her room.

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Who says life begins at 40? Life is wonderful at any age, as long as you're willing to live it. Elsa Logan and Mike Powell prove it. And I want to be just like them when I grow up! One of Roseanne's best and my personal favorite!